The eastern lands were nothing like the rugged, scrapyard wastelands of the west. For the Niners, who had spent most of their lives scavenging among the decayed skeletons of the Once-World, this place felt like an entirely different universe. The ground beneath their boots no longer crunched with rusted metal fragments and discarded plastic, but instead bore the weight of cracked asphalt and hard-packed earth that had been swept clean of debris. The ruins here did not sprawl like chaotic graveyards of broken machines but stood tall and proud, repurposed into something resembling life as it might once have been.
Greybranch was the crown jewel of this strange rebirth. The city emerged from the horizon like a great patchwork fortress, a maze of stacked shipping containers and makeshift slums sprawling outward from a core of steel spires. At its edges, clusters of caravans, wagons, and tents had formed a transient fringe, traders and wanderers waiting for their turn to be admitted through the city's gates.
The convoy rolled to a halt just inside the gates, their arrival marked by the clang of iron portcullises and the sharp barks of guards directing them into an unloading zone. Flint rode ahead, waving a hand to signal the others to stop.
The Niners clambered down from their wagons, their eyes wide with awe and apprehension. For people accustomed to the ramshackle camps and savage ambushes of the west, Greybranch was an overwhelming spectacle. Towers of gleaming steel loomed over the market ring, their tops adorned with banners bearing the Eastern Alliance's sigil—a golden tree sprouting from the ruins of a gear. Between the towers sprawled the market itself, a chaotic hive of activity where metal containers had been repurposed into shops and stalls. Shouts of merchants hawking their wares mingled with the clatter of boots on metal walkways and the clinking of coins.
"By the rusted gods…" muttered Dug, his jaw slack. "It's a city. A real city."
"It's a fortress," Bricks corrected, his tone reverent but edged with wariness. "Don't forget that." He jerked a thumb at the towering guards patrolling the perimeter, their rifles gleaming and their armor polished to an almost ceremonial sheen.
Rain, perched on the edge of one of the wagons, leaned forward to take it all in. Her usual enthusiasm was muted, tempered by the memory of Bricks's scorn and the suspicious glances from some of the Niners. Still, she couldn't suppress a small gasp of amazement at the sight before her.
Snow stood beside her, her arms crossed as she scanned the bustling scene. "Don't get too comfortable," she murmured. "Places like this, they've got their own rules. Break them, and they'll chew you up and spit you out faster than any raider clan."
Rain nodded absently, her attention already drifting to the towering spires at the heart of the city. "I wonder what's up there," she mused.
"Power," Snow replied bluntly. "And people who'll remind you they've got it every chance they get."
Flint strode over, his usual stern demeanor softened slightly. "All right, Niners," he called, clapping his hands to get their attention. "Let's get this cargo unloaded. The merchants are expecting it, and I don't fancy keeping them waiting."
The group moved quickly, spurred on by the promise of payment. Boxes were hauled from the wagons with a mix of grunts and groans, their contents carefully checked against the manifest. Flint supervised the process, his sharp eyes missing nothing, while the Eastern Alliance's guards hovered nearby, their hands resting casually on the hilts of their weapons.
When the last crate was accounted for, Flint turned to the Niners, his expression unreadable. "Despite some... setbacks," he said, his tone carefully neutral, "the job is done. And more importantly, you saved my hide back in the canyon." His gaze flicked briefly to Rain before returning to the group as a whole. "So, I've decided to pay you in full."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the Niners. Even Bricks raised an eyebrow, though he quickly masked his reaction with a nod of approval.
Two crates of canned food, one of fuel, one of ammunition, and one of raw metal were handed over, the sight of the supplies lighting up the faces of even the most hardened scavengers. For a group used to scraping by on scraps, it was a fortune.
Bricks stepped forward, his broad frame blocking the others as he addressed the group. "All right, you lot," he barked. "You've earned a break. Rest, resupply, do whatever you need to do. But don't cause any trouble." His gaze lingered pointedly on Rain, who shrank slightly under his scrutiny. "We're guests here, and I don't want anyone forgetting that."
Snow bristled but said nothing, her hand twitching as if itching to reach for her knife.
As the others dispersed, Flint approached Snow and Rain. "You two," he said, his voice softer now. "Come with me. I've got quarters in one of the towers, and I think we could all use a proper meal. Consider it a gesture of thanks."
Snow's eyes narrowed. "Thanks for what?"
Flint hesitated, then sighed. "For not letting me die back there. And for putting up with... well, everything."
Rain glanced at Snow, her expression uncertain. "What do you think?"
Snow frowned, then relented with a shrug. "Might as well. Better than sitting around listening to Dug complain about his back."
As they followed Flint through the winding streets of Greybranch, Rain's mind raced. She had been planning to ask Flint for help with something—a data drive she had found during one of their scavenging runs. If anyone here had the resources to unlock its secrets, it was him.
But would he agree? And even if he did, what would it cost her?
Her thoughts were interrupted as they arrived at the base of one of the spires, its polished surface gleaming faintly in the evening light. Flint gestured for them to enter, his expression unreadable.
"Welcome to Greybranch," he said. "Let's see what the East has to offer."
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The climb to the upper district of Greybranch felt like ascending into a different world. Snow and Rain followed Flint closely, their footsteps clanking on the iron-plated pathways that led toward the towering spires at the heart of the city. Above them, the towers seemed impossibly tall, their polished steel sides gleaming faintly under the pale light of the setting sun. Around them, the streets narrowed, growing cleaner and more ordered the closer they came to the spires. The ramshackle chaos of the market district was left behind, replaced by a rigid symmetry that Snow found unnerving.
"Stay close," Flint warned, his voice low but firm. "The toppers don't take kindly to uninvited guests."
Rain shot him a curious glance. "Toppers?"
Flint nodded toward the spires. "The ones who live up there," he explained. "The merchants, the Alliance officials—they call themselves the toppers. Everyone else down on the ground, they call grounders. And they make damn sure you remember the difference."
Snow's eyes narrowed as she took in the disdainful looks cast their way by well-dressed men and women strolling the upper district. Their fine clothes and polished boots stood in stark contrast to the worn leathers and patched cloaks of the Niners. "Sounds like they've got their heads stuck up their own spires," she muttered.
Flint smirked. "You're not wrong. But this place runs on their rules, so keep your mouth shut and your head down. They'll tolerate you if you're with me, but don't push your luck."
Rain craned her neck to peer at the spires, her mind already racing with questions. How had they built these towers? What relics of the Old Ones had they scavenged to make them stand so tall? Were there libraries up there, or vaults of knowledge hidden from the grounders below?
Her curiosity was interrupted as they reached a large platform at the base of one of the spires. A rope-pulley elevator creaked and groaned as it descended, operated by something that resembled a vehicle engine hooked to the gears below that connect the ropes and pulleys. The platform swayed slightly as it touched down, and a guard in a gleaming breastplate stepped forward to inspect them.
"Business?" the guard barked, his tone clipped.
"Flint Garnet," Flint replied, his voice calm but authoritative. "Merchant of the Eastern Alliance. These two are my guests."
The guard's eyes flicked to Snow and Rain, his lips curling slightly in disdain. "Guests, huh? They don't look like toppers to me."
Flint stepped closer, lowering his voice but not his intensity. "Do you really want to waste my time over this? I'll take full responsibility for them."
The guard hesitated, then stepped aside with a curt nod. "Fine. But if they cause any trouble, it's on you."
With that, Flint motioned for Snow and Rain to step onto the platform. The engine began to hum with a rusted voice again, and the elevator lurched upward with a jolt. Rain gripped the railing tightly, her stomach flipping as the platform rose higher and higher above the city.
"First time on a rope-pulley?" Flint asked, noticing her wide-eyed expression.
Rain nodded. "It's... uh, higher than I expected."
"You get used to it," Flint said, though his tone suggested he wasn't entirely convinced of that himself.
The elevator finally came to a stop at a landing halfway up the spire, and Flint led them into a corridor lined with doors made of polished steel. He stopped in front of one and pushed it open, revealing a room that was unlike anything Snow or Rain had ever seen.
The quarters were spacious, with walls draped in fine cloth and floors covered in thick rugs. A low table sat at the center, surrounded by cushions, and a faint scent of incense lingered in the air. Shelves lined one wall, filled with neatly arranged ledgers and small trinkets that glinted in the lamplight.
"Welcome to my home," Flint said, gesturing for them to enter.
A figure appeared from one of the side rooms—a young woman with sharp features and a sardonic smile. She was dressed in simple but well-tailored clothes, her dark hair tied back in a braid.
"Jade," Flint said, addressing her with a tone that was more command than greeting. "We have guests. Treat them well."
Jade raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to Snow and Rain. "Guests, huh? And here I thought you didn't do charity."
"Just bring the food," Flint said, ignoring her remark.
Jade rolled her eyes but disappeared into another room, returning moments later with trays of food. She set them on the table, then stepped back with a mockingly deferential bow.
Snow and Rain sat cross-legged on the cushions, eyeing the spread before them. There was spiced grilled scorpion, its charred shell glistening with oil; small, round bread balls that were hard on the outside but sweet within; a steaming stew fragrant with herbs; and cups of cactus juice, the pale green liquid faintly glowing in the lamplight.
Rain's face lit up as she reached for a piece of scorpion. "This looks amazing!" she exclaimed, taking a bite and savoring the rich, smoky flavor. "So much better than canned beans and flatbread."
Snow was more restrained, but even she couldn't suppress a small nod of approval as she tried the stew. "Not bad," she admitted.
Flint watched them with a faint smile. "Eastern Alliance hospitality," he said. "We may be snobs, but we know how to eat."
After the meal, Flint leaned back against the cushions and folded his arms. "So," he said, his tone shifting to one of curiosity. "What can I do for you two? You saved my life back in the canyon. The least I can do is return the favor."
Rain hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Then, with a deep breath, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small, rectangular object. She placed it on the table, its surface scratched and weathered but still bearing the faint outline of a symbol from the Once-World.
Flint raised an eyebrow. "An artifact?"
Rain nodded. "I found it a while ago. It's a data drive, I think. But I don't know how to unlock it."
Flint picked it up, turning it over in his hands. "Interesting," he murmured. "Not exactly my area of expertise—I deal in luxury goods, not tech. But I know someone who might be able to help."
Rain's eyes widened. "Really? Who?"
Flint set the drive down and gave her a sly smile. "A tinkerer. Lives here in Greybranch. If anyone can figure this thing out, it's her. And I think she will be interested in finding out for sure."